


Hustle

by Zinnith



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: sga_flashfic, Con Artists, Crime, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-14
Updated: 2010-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinnith/pseuds/Zinnith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It was the scam of the decade, of this John was certain. It was </i>the<i> con, the one every grifter in the world dreamed about, the one he would be able to retire on.</i></p><p>The one where the team are con artists in Las Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hustle

**Author's Note:**

> For the Criminal challenge. Title is shamelessly stolen from the BBC-show with the same name.
> 
> As always, love and cookies to the_cephalopod for the beta and the waving of very large sticks.

It was the scam of the decade, of this John was certain. It was con, the one every grifter in the world dreamed about, the one he would be able to retire on.

The only problem was, there was no way he could pull it off on his own. For this kind of long con, he needed help; and not just any help – he needed the best. Which was the reason he was sitting at a table in a smoky bar off the Strip together with Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex, trying to convince them that his plan was not suicidal.

So far, he had been unsuccessful.

"Let's see if I got this right," Ronon said. "You know how to take ten million dollars from Acastus Kolya and get away with it?"

"Yep," John said, tossing his carefully prepared notes on the table. Ronon gave them a look and discarded them, but Teyla picked them up and began to read.

John and Ronon had met in jail. It was a lot of years ago and John preferred not to think too much about it. To make a long story short, they had both gotten out more or less intact and John had been a lot more careful since. That was until he had stumbled over this chance.

Acastus Kolya was the American dream personified. He had arrived in the states at the age of 22 without a cent to his name, and proceeded to build one of the biggest corporations in the state of Nevada. To the general public, Kolya was a successful businessman. He gave money to charities, funded medical research programs and was often seen in the media, usually holding small children. John had discovered the other side of Kolya's enterprises by accident while working on another scam.

"It's fool-proof," John explained, thumbing the little ivory carving Evan had sent him from Tanzania. "We're stealing money he stole from others. He won't go to the cops, and if everything goes according to plan, he won't even find out who we are."

"It's insane," Ronon said.

"It beats trying to get hit by cars and collect the insurance," John answered with a shrug. "How's that shoulder again, big guy?"

Ronon shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unconsciously rolling his arm. John knew very well how that shoulder was. Ronon didn't like to admit it, but he had been carrying out his preferred line of work for a little longer than he should have.

Teyla finally put John's notebook down on the table. "It could work," she said. "Kolya is always looking for opportunities like this one. Even if he does not have a buyer for the shipment right now, he would be able to find one quickly. With the right provenances, if we can convince him, it could work."

_Bingo_, John thought to himself. If he had Teyla on his side, Ronon would eventually agree. "I said it was a good plan," he said. John was damn proud of the plan himself. He had spent a long time coming up with it before presenting it to his prospective partners-in-crime.

"I would not say good," Teyla said, pursing her lips. "It will need some work. But it is possible we could manage it."

"What about the tech part?" Ronon said. "We can't pull that off without an expert."

John smiled to himself. He had known it was going to end like this. As soon as Teyla gave the all clear, Ronon was onto the idea. They were so predictable sometimes.

Teyla looked thoughtful. "There is the Professor," she said.

"The Professor isn't into this kind of scam," Ronon countered.

"Maybe if we can find something he wants." Teyla said slowly, looking over John's notes again.

"Everybody wants _something_," John said with his best suggestive grin, leaning back in his chair and stretching out.

"Did you decide to branch out from the rich middle-aged women?" Ronon growled, clearly trying for payback for John's shoulder-quip earlier. Teyla could wrap him around her little finger with a single look; Ronon knew it and John knew it, but Ronon wasn't all too happy about the fact that John knew it.

John decided to ignore him for the moment. "Let me handle the Professor," he told Teyla. "Just set up a meet. He's still going through Zelenka, right?"

"Yes, he is," Teyla nodded as she scribbled a few notes on a napkin. "I will take care of it. Now, this contact you have on the inside, how reliable is he?"

John shrugged again. "He's a crook. He'd do anything to get filthy rich."

"Like sell us out to Kolya?" Ronon grumbled.

"Nah, Kolya's too tight-fisted," John replied. "We can worry about that when we have the Professor onboard; nothing's going to happen without him anyway."

"I will make the call immediately," Teyla said and left the table. Ronon looked after her when she went, admiring the way her hips moved underneath the long, thin skirt she wore.

"Never gonna happen, buddy," John told him with a smirk.

Ronon made an ugly face. "None of your business," he muttered. "You worry about McKay because he won't fold so easily."

* * *

When Teyla got to work, things tended to happen fast. She knew everyone and everything in their business and her contacts usually paid off. The next day, John found himself standing outside a shabby hotel in North Las Vegas holding a scrap of paper with a name and a room-number. He didn't know exactly what to expect and it made him a little nervous. The Professor, otherwise known as Rodney McKay, was one of the wild cards in the game. John had done his homework of course, so he wasn't going in completely unprepared, but still… There weren't many people in the trade who had got close to McKay and John had no idea how he was going to play this one.

In fact, very few people had actually seen McKay in real life. He did his best work on the Internet, and _man_, was it beautiful work. Investment schemes, phishing and pharming, identity theft, you name it. Give McKay a computer and an Internet connection and, given sufficient time, he could probably take over the world.

It had been easy to find information about McKay's scams. What John had _not_ been able to find was anything personal on the man. Was he married? Did he have a family? What would be the best way to reel him in?

After careful consideration, John had decided to go with the tried and tested method of just winging it.

The hotel had seen better days and so had the woman behind the front desk. She seemed to be totally immune to John's charms and just gave him a disinterested look and directions to McKay's room (which was definitely not in McKay's name). As John headed for the elevator, he could see her pick up the phone. Obviously, he was going to be expected.

He reached the room and knocked on the door, and McKay must've been waiting just inside because it opened immediately. He was about John's age and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a big image of pi. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, his hair was getting a little thin and, judging from how pale his skin was, John reckoned he didn't get out much. In other words, your basic geek.

"McKay?" he asked.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Well, _obviously_. And I'm going to make an educated guess and assume you're not from room service." He looked John up and down, made a little grimace and stepped aside. "Are you going to come in or would you rather discuss crime in the hallway?"

"I think I'll settle for inside, thanks," John said and stepped past McKay, into the room. It was small and murky, the stereotype of cheap hotel rooms everywhere. There was a narrow bed with a garish cover that made John's eyes hurt and a desk where two different laptops were up and running.

McKay closed the door and locked it. "So, John Sheppard," he said. "According to Radek, you have a business proposition. Normally I wouldn't have agreed to see you, but Zelenka said the call came through Teyla Emmagan and she usually knows what she's doing." He walked over to the bed and sat down. "I say _usually&lt;/&gt;, because I'm fairly certain she's lost her mind this time. Now, it might just have been a hallucination brought out by caffeinism and sexual frustration, but I think Radek mentioned something about this con of yours involving the Genii Corporation?"_

John leaned against the closed door. There were no place to sit other than the chair by the desk, and McKay didn't seem like the sort of guy who would let anyone else close to his laptops. There was the bed of course… John considered it, but decided to use _that_ tactic as a last resort.

"Yeah," he said. "The Genii Corporation and a ten million dollar shipment of African art that doesn't exist – they won't know what hit them."

McKay didn't look convinced. As a matter of fact, the look he gave John was probably meant to convey something along the lines of 'Are you dumber than _dirt_?'

"The Genii Corporation – Acastus Kolya's front for buying and selling illicit antiquities from all over the world? _That_ Genii Corporation?"

"Yes, that Genii Corporation," John said. McKay had a really expressive face, he noted. Expressive face and expressive hands. He liked watching the guy talk. He caught himself thinking about what those hands might be good at, other than hacking computers, and then firmly willed his brain out of the gutter.

"All right, I just wanted to be sure." McKay went silent for a moment, and then continued, "You _do_ know that if you're caught, you won't just be doing time? Kolya will kill you. Kill you as in _dead_, understand? Dead, deceased, no more John Sheppard, which would be a shame because you really add something to the scenery."

John blinked. Okay, that was unexpected. McKay didn't look like the type. Then again, John obviously didn't look like the type either, or he wouldn't be so good at charming older women out of their money.

"Trust me, McKay," he said, pushing away from the door and walking closer to the bed. McKay started to fidget a little where he was sitting. "Kolya won't kill us because he won't know who we are. I have everything planned."

"For some reason, that doesn't make me feel any better," McKay said, sliding back a little on the bed, like he was trying to keep his distance. He didn't wear a wedding ring, John noted, watching McKay's hand gesture wildly as he continued, "I mean, I know everything about you; you've never worked anything bigger than romance scams and, though I'm flattered by the offer, really, I think I'm going to have to say no because, oh, I don't know, I'd like to stay _alive_!"

"Aw, come on," John protested, carefully manoeuvring himself up against the bed so he was standing between McKay's legs. McKay swallowed. He had gone bright read and was breathing a little heavy. "Think about it. Enough money to retire somewhere warm and not lift a finger for the remainder of your life. No more small jobs. _It's ten million dollars we're talking about here._" John leaned forward to put his hands on both sides of where McKay was sitting, trapping him there. "Ten. Million. Dollars," he said slowly.

McKay made a weird little sound deep down in his throat. His eyes were fixed on John's lips and from there it seemed perfectly natural to kiss him, so that's what John did.

He was a little hesitant at first, just licking along McKay's lips. Then they came apart and let John in as McKay started to respond. Surprisingly, it became a lot better than John would have thought. Although McKay might not look like it, he was one hell of a kisser; making it wet and dirty and really, really good, and John decided to throw all his earlier prejudices out the window. He'd never gone for the pretty ones anyway, had always preferred his men to be _men_.

McKay was definitely a man John thought a little giddily as he pushed the guy down on the bed and felt an impressive erection against his thigh. As he deepened the kiss, McKay's needy moans were giving John a hard-on of his own. McKay was thrusting up against him, his hips moving almost desperately. It was hot as hell.

The bedcover was rumpled and hanging half off the bed by the time John got McKay's pants open and his hand around McKay's cock. It was hot and slick against his palm and he gave it an experimental stroke, which got an unintelligible groan out of McKay, so John figured it was good and continued.

He broke the kiss and slid down McKay's body, which got a less than enthusiastic reaction from the man spread out on the bed. "No, wait, what are you…" Then John pressed his lips against the soft, pale skin on McKay's thigh, and the protests changed into, "Oh. Oh yes, _please_."

It had been a while since John had sucked dick, so he started out tentatively; hand still wrapped around the shaft, just licking the sensitive head. When that resulted in a long string of incoherent words, he took McKay in fully, using his tongue to make it as good as he knew how.

McKay's hands were on his head, buried in his hair, not pushing but just resting there as a warm, heavy weight, and god, he had missed this. He kept working McKay's cock, while mentally chanting a mantra of, _He's just another mark, it doesn't mean anything, just another scam._

The only warning John got what when McKay's back arched up from the bed. He pulled his mouth away and kept stroking McKay's cock until he came all over John's hand. John wiped his fingers on the carpet. McKay sagged back and lay there panting. John watched the way his chest heaved, the damp patches of sweat on his t-shirt and thought, _Yeah, I've still got it_. It was something of a relief actually.

"Okay," McKay finally said. "Just so we're clear on one thing, I'm not stupid. As a matter of fact, I'm a certified _genius_, and I know _exactly_ what you're trying to do here – you're using sex to get me to agree to this hare-brained scheme of yours."

John sat back on his heels. His cock was still hard in his pants and he shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable. "Is it working?" he asked hopefully.

McKay pulled up his pants and pushed up from the bed. "Sadly, yes. I just want to be sure we're on the same page, I mean, I know who you are and you're not hustling _me_. Now, tell me about that plan again so I can see if there's a way to do this without getting us _killed_."

He walked over to the desk and did something to one of his laptops. John pulled himself up off the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed. It was still warm from McKay's body-heat. He proceeded to tell McKay all the details of the plan and McKay harrumphed and hummed and occasionally asked out loud if John had a death wish or if he was just stupid. By the time John had finished, his hard-on had gone away and McKay stared at his screen with a look of intense concentration.

"It's not completely impossible," McKay said, turning the desk chair around so he was facing John. "We'll need a good forger of course, Zelenka is the only one I'd trust with something like this. And I want you word that I will never have to meet any of Kolya's people in person. I mean it; I'm terrible with that sort of thing. I have no poker-face at all, otherwise I'd have made a fortune at the tables counting cards."

"Relax, nothing's going to happen to you," John ensured him. Right now, he couldn't see how anything could go wrong, with both Teyla and McKay pulling the strings.

McKay snorted. "I'll believe _that_ when we're sipping Mai Tai's in some tropical paradise. Without the lemon juice of course, I'm deadly allergic to citrus. Anyway, I need until tomorrow to wrap up a couple of things. I assume you have a base of operations set up somewhere?"

"We have a suite reserved at the Hilton," John answered and stood up. "Call Teyla for the details."

"Yes, yes I will. I…" McKay got to his feet as well, rubbing his palms against his pants legs. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. Oh, and…" he cleared his throat. "If… I mean, about the…"

"Yes?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

McKay blushed and swallowed. "Nothing," he said quickly. "Nothing important anyway." He walked over to the door, unlocked it and held it open for John. "I'm looking forward to do business with you, Mr. Sheppard."

John grinned. "You too, Mr. McKay. Tomorrow then?"

"Yes, yes, tomorrow. Fine, good-bye" McKay agreed all but shoved John out of the room and shut the door again.

Well… not exactly what John had expected, but he kind of liked the guy. For some reason, he was really looking forwards to tomorrow. It looked like he was going to have to be careful with McKay. He couldn't afford to get emotionally involved, not now, when he needed to keep his head clear. _It doesn't mean anything. Just another mark._

* * *

With the help of a dark curly wig, glasses and a strict business suit, Teyla had made herself completely unrecognisable. Ronon's appearance was less easy to disguise, but the outfit would help with that. People never paid that much attention to maintenance workers anyway.

"Now remember," McKay told him for the seven hundredth time. "You need to attach the transmitter _exactly_ the way I showed you, or it'll disrupt the entire system and they'll know something is wrong."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Ronon answered, clearly about to lose his patience. John stretched out on the sofa in their central tower suite and watched with amusement. McKay had arrived after lunch the day before with numerous bags and laptops and had swiftly taken control of the entire operation, spreading electronic equipment and various gizmos over the entire suite. John found it fascinating to see him work; Ronon was less impressed.

"It's not the first time I've done this," he told McKay, turning the transmitter over in his large hand.

McKay sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you _said_ that; forgive me for being a little concerned! If this doesn't work, Teyla will be going in blind, no back up, no nothing, so this part of the plan is _crucial_ and…"

Ronon's face held the expression of a man about to explode. John decided this would be a good time to interrupt, before any serious injuries occurred. "Relax, McKay," he said. "Ronon knows what he's doing."

McKay swiftly turned his attention to the couch where John was sitting. He had very blue eyes, John noted. "Well, _excuse_ me, I just happen to have a very detailed knowledge of every single little thing that could go _wrong_ with this scam, and if Conan here…"he pointed to Ronon, "…screws this up, we're _dead_, understand?"

"Watch it!" Ronon growled.

"Hey, nothing will go wrong!" John protested.

Teyla, who had been silent up till now, shut her briefcase. "I have complete faith in you both," she stated. "I also believe it is important that we all trust each other. If there is nothing else, Professor, we need to leave now or we will be late."

McKay threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Just… just be careful, okay?"

"We will be," Teyla assured him.

"Okay, we should be set then," John said. "We'll be watching you from here. It'll be a cakewalk, I swear, but no fancy stuff, okay? Just dangle the bait and reel him in. The documents Zelenka provided will be more than enough to convince him you're the real deal. Radim will be waiting for you in the lobby."

Teyla smiled. "There is no need to worry about me, John," she said. "I too know how to do my job."

"Yeah, sorry," John answered, a little sheepishly. "Guess I'm a bit nervous."

"I understand." Teyla turned to Ronon. "Are you ready?"

"I'm all set," Ronon said, picked up his toolbox and followed Teyla to the door. They both left and John was alone with McKay for the first time since their encounter in McKay's hotel room.

There was nothing uncomfortable about it. From the moment McKay had stormed into the suite, he had done absolutely nothing to make John think he expected a repeat. He had acted professional, or at least an acerbic McKay version of professional, and never made a move. John wondered if he was perhaps ashamed to let Teyla and Ronon know exactly what had won him over, but then again, the man was not the least prudish when it came to sex and his own preferences.

Rodney McKay was a damn mystery and John was itching to figure him out.

He leaned back on the coach. "So," he said, trying to start a conversation. "I guess we just wait, huh?"

McKay was working on something on one of his laptops and only responded with an absentminded murmur. He didn't seem to be in the mood for small talk. John watched the ceiling, hummed a little Cash and wished he'd had remembered to bring his guitar. His fingers were getting restless without anything to do. He couldn't wait to start playing his part of the plan. If he had to sit cooped up in the hotel much longer, he would go insane.

It was a nice suite though. They had two bedrooms and a big lounge with a couple of very comfortable couches and a conference table, which McKay had immediately commandeered. The window gave them a nice view of the Strip. Even after several years in Vegas, John never got tired of watching it. The neon lights, the sounds, the fountains outside the Bellagio, moths dancing around the Luxor beam. The casinos filled with people hoping for their big chance. For a man in John's line of work, Las Vegas was paradise.

Right now, however, he was bored and a little edgy. He knew how to put up a confident front, but, like McKay had said, there were a lot of things that could go wrong with their plan. Working a job of this size was a bit like flying. You just took off and suddenly found yourself thousands of feet up in the air, technology and your own skill the only things keeping you from falling. It was exhilarating, intoxicating; an adrenaline rush that couldn't compare to anything else.

But the worst part was the waiting, the not being able to do anything. John sighed and checked his watch. Teyla and Ronon wouldn't even have had time to arrive at the Genii Casino yet. McKay was still engrossed in whatever he was doing with his laptop, hunched over in his chair so that all John could see of him was his broad shoulders and back. His fingers worked impossibly fast on the keyboard.

"So," John said again. The silence was beginning to grate on his nerves. "Listen, Professor…"

"Don't call me that, please," McKay interrupted, without taking his eyes from the screen.

John raised an eyebrow. "Riiight," he drawled. "Isn't that what everyone calls you?"

McKay turned around. "No, that is what people who don't know me very well call me, which, granted, is about everyone, but that's not the point."

"Where does that come from anyway?" John asked, now a little intrigued. "Did you use to teach or what?"

"Teach?" McKay exclaimed. "Do I seem like the kind of person who would be a good teacher? If you must know, I was kicked out of university for cheating, but it was totally not my fault! I mean, the regular coursework was boring and it took so much time from the _interesting_ things, and I just tried to speed it up a little and then, _bam_!" he smacked his fist into his palm, "There were disciplinary hearings and general unpleasantness and I really don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," John said, smiling a little. It was a bit of a shame, he thought. He could easily see McKay in a lab or a lecture hall, berating the hell out of both peers and students. But he guessed some things just weren't meant to be. "Hey, it's no big deal. I got kicked out of the Air Force for being gay." And he really had no idea why he had just told McKay that. It wasn't exactly something he advertised. Teyla and Ronon knew, of course, but the two of them were the closest thing he had to friends.

"No, really?" McKay said with a touch of sarcasm, and turned back to his laptop.

John was about to answer with something suitably wry, but his cell chose that moment to start ringing. It was Ronon's caller ID, so he picked it up. "Yeah?"

"We got everything set up on our end," came Ronon's deep voice. "Radim picked up Teyla two minutes ago, they're on their way to Kolya's office."

"Good work," John said. "Keep in touch. If anything happens, I want you to be ready."

"Will be," Ronon answered and hung up.

John turned to McKay. "Ronon's done. Is it working?"

McKay gave an impatient little wave in response. He had really nice hands, John thought. Big, with long, square fingers. "Give me a moment… I just have to…. ah, here we go. Look at that!" He got up and brought the laptop over to the couch so they could both watch the grainy security footage from the casino. McKay flipped through the different locations until he found the right one – Acastus Kolya's private office, where Teyla was just shaking Kolya's hand and being offered a chair, in which she sat down gracefully, giving him a nice view of her well-shaped legs.

"I wish this thing had sound," John said. He never got tired of watching Teyla work.

He and McKay were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, eyes on the screen. John couldn't bring himself to look at McKay, but he could feel the other man's presence, the heat of his skin through his shirt-sleeve. It was impossible to ignore. John shifted a little, trying to move away, but still feeling himself drawn to that warmth. He wondered what would happen if he tried to kiss McKay again.

On the screen, Teyla was opening her briefcase and began to take out copies of the fake provenances McKay had gotten from Zelenka. They were flawless, only a professional would recognise them as forgeries, but John's stomach still did a nervous little flip. If Kolya didn't buy this, the whole thing was off, and Teyla could be in big trouble.

Kolya took the papers out of Teyla's hand and studied them carefully. John held his breath. Beside him, McKay's coffee-mug had stopped halfway to his mouth. Then, Kolya handed back the documents with a smile John thought was kind of creepy, and said something. He was sitting slightly turned and John couldn't make out the words, but Teyla smiled as well and accepted the documents back. John released his breath.

"She's good," McKay said, a touch of awe in his voice.

"The best," John agreed. Right now, he loved Teyla. And Ronon. And possibly McKay.

They watched Teyla and Kolya stand up and shake hands again. Then Kolya did something with something hidden underneath his desk and a moment later, the door to the office opened and a man with a neat beard and slight build came in.

"That's Radim?" McKay asked curiously.

John nodded. Ladon Radim was Kolya's right-hand man and the key to the whole operation. No one was allowed to see Kolya without going through Radim. On the screen, Radim was escorting Teyla out of the office. John picked up his cell and called Ronon.

"We're on," he said when Ronon answered. "Get the transmitter and get the hell out of there."

He hung up feeling like every nerve in his body was suddenly electrified, like the very air against his skin made everything sparkle, the hair on his arms and neck standing on edge. He felt high. He glanced over at McKay to find the other man staring at him from behind the wire rim glasses, and John just couldn't help himself so he leaned in and kissed him hard, thinking that maybe that would help, would bring him down a little bit, just enough that he would be able to concentrate again.

McKay didn't act as shocked as John had expected. Instead he returned the kiss, threading his fingers into John's hair, and John couldn't get enough of it, of McKay and his taste, coffee and chocolate and sarcasm. When he moved over to straddle McKay's lap, he felt an answering erection against his own. He ground down, desperate for contact, wanted skin but there were too many clothes. McKay groaned against his mouth, making sounds that turned John on to the point of exploding.

McKay's glasses were in the way, glasses always got in the way sooner or later, and John raised his hands to cradle McKay's face, felt the rough stubble there and then removed the glasses, tossing them on the table behind them.

"Hey, be careful, I need those for seeing!" McKay protested, his voice a little hoarse and a lot sexy and John pressed his groin into McKay's again, panting with need.

"I want…" he managed, not sure where the words came from, and McKay nodded, let his hands slide down John's back, to the waistband of his jeans, long fingers slipping inside a little bit, just teasing, ghosting over John's skin.

John couldn't wait any longer and fumbled McKay's fly open, felt McKay's cock leap into his hand, hard and leaking. He gave it a stroke. McKay groaned and found John's mouth again, his talented tongue invading it, and John wondered what that tongue would feel like against his skin, but didn't have time to find out because McKay's hand had moved between them, opening John's pants to pull his dick out and press it against his own, and that was even _better_; slick with fluid and so very hot.

John started moving his hips, rubbing himself off against McKay, but McKay broke the kiss, whispering, "Wait, let me…" and then wrapped his large hand around both of them, stroking fast and tight and good. John couldn't remember the last time he'd had another man's hand on his dick. He put both hands on McKay's shoulders, bowed his head and just watched; fascinated by the way McKay found all his sensitive spots, until he just couldn't hold back any longer and came all over McKay's hand, shaking and jerking and then just sagging against McKay's chest, lacking the capacity to hold himself upright any longer. McKay wasn't far behind. He made the _best_ noises when he came, John reflected groggily.

Neither one of them said anything for a long time afterwards. John leaned his head against McKay's shoulder, wanting to stay there, feel McKay's chest heave underneath him, feel his breath against John's neck and the loose grip of his fingers on John's hip.

McKay was the first to break the silence. "Not that this isn't nice and all, but Teyla and Ronon will be back any minute," he said.

"Mhmm," John mumbled. Then he thought about their teammates coming in and finding them like this and decided that would be all kinds of awkward. He managed to disentangle himself from McKay and tuck himself back into his pants and, ew, sticky and gross and they'd better clean up fast or there would be a lot of embarrassing explanations when Teyla and Ronon returned.

McKay seemed to have the same idea. He retrieved his glasses from the table and headed for one of the bathrooms. John took the other one, and by the time he was clean and had changed into fresh underwear, McKay was sitting at the conference table again, sipping coffee and eating a chocolate donut like nothing had happened.

John felt the need to explain, that he hadn't planned this, hadn't really been in control of himself, and started, "Listen McKay, I…"

"Yes, yes, I get it. No harm done," McKay interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Although, considering the circumstances, I really think you should call me Rodney. Anyway, now that Kolya swallowed the bait, we need to prepare for the next step."

Right. That was… unexpected? John wasn't sure what to think. Okay, he hadn't exactly been Mr. Romantic the first time, but he hadn't figured Rodney McKay for the 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' type. He was beginning to wonder exactly who was being hustled here.

* * *

Oscar W. Porter was widely known as one of the most reliable escrow agents in Vegas. What most people didn't know was that he was also a compulsive gambler. He was smart about it, never let himself be seen in the casinos, and took care of all his betting online. Acastus Kolya didn't know about Porter's little weakness, and therefore kept calling on his services. John Sheppard did know about it, and had therefore chosen Porter to be the fall guy.

Porter's first mistake was using one computer for all his transactions. His second mistake was using the free Wi-Fi at Henderson Airport to place his bets. John had followed his movements for some time and had found this to be the perfect opportunity to get access to his computer. It was no match to set up a fake base station and latch onto Porter's laptop. At least, it was no match for one computer genius by the name of Rodney McKay.

"Oh, this is just too easy. Seriously, he's so stupid, he deserves to be set up," Rodney muttered. "When are people going to learn how to use protection? Not that I'm complaining, but I had hoped for a little more of a challenge. This is like stealing candy from a baby. A blind, deaf, paralyzed baby."

John had to smile. It felt good to finally be out and _doing_ something. Teyla was having lunch with Kolya, setting everything up for the next day and Ronon was tailing them. John would have preferred to have surveillance of this meeting as well, but they were going to be in a public place and he figured Kolya wouldn't try anything in front of people. Besides, John had wanted to follow Rodney to the airport to keep an eye on things. They were sitting in the same lounge as Porter, something Rodney had been a little anxious about, but John had kept reassuring him that no one would notice them. Dressed in suits and ties, they were just another pair of businessmen waiting for their flight.

It was all in the attitude, John had explained to Rodney a little earlier. If you acted like you had all right to be there, no one would question you.

"That's easy for _you_ to say," Rodney had whined. "You fit in everywhere! I _told_ you I have no poker face."

Despite his worries, Rodney was doing a good job, as long as no one tried to make eye contact with him, in which case he went bright red and stammering. John managed to cover for him, mostly. He had the ivory carving in his pocket, touching it now and then for luck.

"Do you have everything you need?" he whispered to Rodney. They had been sitting here for just a little too long, and John didn't want anyone to get suspicious and start asking questions.

"Yes, yes, just a moment, I want to be able to get back in without having to do this again." Rodney whispered back, a little too loud. John hushed at him, and then gave the woman sitting opposite to them a bright smile, rolling his eyes, as if to complain about obnoxious colleagues. She smiled back and John stretched a little in his seat, showing off his assets. If she paid enough attention to him, she would never remember Rodney. The woman crossed her legs, giving him a good look at her pantyhose covered thigh. John didn't try to mask the fact that he was watching her and wiggled his eyebrows a little bit in her direction. That earned him another smile from her, and a sharp elbow in the side from Rodney.

A ringing cell phone interrupted their flirting, and John heard Porter answer. He was able to pick out a few words here and there, "Yes, Mr. Kolya. Certainly. Understood, I will be awaiting your transfer. Always a pleasure to do business with you."

John smiled again. Teyla had done her job. Beside him, Rodney muttered to himself. "Oh yes, you will. You'll be awaiting and awaiting and you'll never see a cent of that money because you're a _moron_, Mr. I Don't Know A Thing About Internet Security."

"Done, Rodney?" John whispered between his teeth, still smiling at the woman, who had now opened the first button of her blouse and was caressing her own throat with hand adorned by a wedding ring.

"As done as I'll ever be," Rodney answered and packed up his laptop. John checked his watch and stood up, gave the woman an apologising shrug (sorry, would've loved to stay but we have somewhere to be right now), and followed Rodney out, once again with that elated feeling of a job well done.

He was so busy being euphoric that he didn't notice that Rodney had gone quiet until they were back at the suite at the Hilton. Usually, Rodney's mouth never stopped moving, whether he had something to say or not. However, he hadn't said a word during the drive over, just sat still in the passenger seat, staring out the window and sometimes glaring at John when he took a turn a little too sharply.

Teyla hadn't returned from her meeting with Kolya yet, and Ronon was keeping an eye on her. John didn't know when they would be back, and had all but forgotten the last time he had been alone with Rodney.

He wasn't prepared for the attack when it came, but the moment they were inside the suite, he found himself pressed up against a wall, Rodney's mouth over his and _Jesus_, he could get used to this all too easily. Rodney's hands were tearing at his clothes, frantic and desperate, and between kisses, he heard Rodney murmur against his face, "No idea how hot… flirting like that… thought you'd take you clothes off right _there_…" and wow, apparently the woman at the airport hadn't been the only one affected by John's little show, but he could totally get with the program here, because Rodney's _hands_, and his _mouth_, and the last time John had gotten this hard this fast he'd been _fourteen_.

Rodney's breath was hot against his skin, his hands cupping John's ass through the fabric of his pants, and John was going to have bruises there tomorrow, but right now he didn't care, he just wanted Rodney to keep doing what he was doing because it was seriously hot.

"Tell me…" Rodney panted, "Tell me what you want… "

John tugged at Rodney's tie, wanted it _gone_, wanted all of Rodney's clothes gone. He couldn't believe they'd already had sex _twice_ and still he hadn't seen Rodney naked. "Anything, you can do anything…" he managed, "Just, we have to hurry, Teyla and Ronon…"

"I know, I know, wait, let me…" Rodney let go of John for a moment to free himself from the stubborn tie, and then his suit jacket. John ran his hands over Rodney's chest, feeling the warmth of Rodney's skin underneath the shirt and then leaned forward to suck on Rodney's nipple through the thin fabric. It drew a deep groan from Rodney and John wanted to continue, wanted to find out what other noise he could make Rodney produce.

And, because Murphy's Law had ruled John's sex life for the past few years, that was when the lock clicked in the door and Teyla and Ronon came in.

John and Rodney broke apart as quickly as humanly possible, but it still had to be painfully obvious what they had been doing. Rodney's face was flushed and he was panting, a wet patch on his shirt where John's mouth had been. John's clothes were askew and his lips felt hot and swollen.

Ronon raised an eyebrow. "Did we interrupt something?" he rumbled, an amused expression on his face.

"No, no, not at all, we were just… I mean, I know how this looks, but…" Rodney stuttered. It was so comical to watch him try to explain that John almost burst out laughing.

Teyla, the wonderful woman she was, didn't bat an eyelid. She just walked over to the conference table and put her briefcase down. "Kolya wants to meet with you tomorrow, John. He will let us know the location later. I showed him the photographs your friend provided us with and he was very pleased. Did you get what you needed from the escrow agent?"

"Yep," John grinned, getting his clothes in order again. "We're all set. Right, Rodney?"

Rodney's face was beet red. For a moment, John was afraid he was going to have a stroke or something, but then he seemed to pull himself together and said, "Yes, well, not all set, I still have to arrange everything with the accounts, but I could do that in my sleep. The difficult part's all done."

"The difficult part is tomorrow," Ronon said. "Sheppard has to convince Kolya to transfer the money before you can channel it to another account."

"Piece of cake," John answered. He was really looking forward to that. All this was so exciting that he was beginning to wonder if he'd really be able to quit after this job.   
The prospect of retirement seemed dull in comparison.

"I believe we will succeed," Teyla said. She had removed her wig and glasses, and was now taking out the pins that held her long hair in place. "I am hungry. Would any of you like to join me for dinner down at the restaurant?" She gave Ronon a look that wouldn't accept any protests.

"Well… I would…" Rodney started, but John quickly stepped in, not wanting Rodney to disappear off to somewhere.

"We already ordered room service. Rain check?"

Teyla flashed him a knowing smile and John loved her for it. "Of course. I will change and meet you downstairs, Ronon?"

"Sure," Ronon answered, still with that amused look. John loved him a little too.

It didn't take Teyla long to get changed into her usual clothes, but to John it felt like hours. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Rodney, half-afraid that the sudden interruption would have turned him off the idea of sex.

He needn't have worried. As soon as Teyla and Ronon were out of the room, Rodney's hands were back on John's ass and his tongue was back in John's mouth and, oh _yeah_, he could _really_ get used to this.

John's tie and suit jacket quickly went the same way as Rodney's, tangled together in a heap on the floor. Rodney's fingers were fumbling with John's fly and he couldn't wait to get rid of all these _clothes_. They were in the way, kept him away from Rodney's skin, and John wanted Rodney's skin, wanted much more of it than their current position could provide.

"Bed," he panted and Rodney nodded violently and started walking him backwards into one of the bedrooms, never stopping kissing him. It was slow and stumbling and John was trying to remove as much as possible of their clothing on the way, but then he finally felt the edge of the bed against the back of his knees and found himself flat on his back with Rodney sprawled on top of him, heavy and hot.

John had to break off the kiss, or he would have passed out from lack of oxygen. Rodney's face was very close to his, sporting a smug grin. "Now, where were we?" he asked. His eyes were very bright behind the glasses, pupils completely dilated.

"You're way overdressed," John said, reaching up to pull Rodney's shirt off his arms, and _wow_, naked Rodney-chest, just a little hairy with pink hard nipples. The man was large without being fat or especially muscle-bound, just nice and solid. John could imagine himself on his back, arms around those broad shoulders while Rodney pressed into him, slow and deep.

"So are you," Rodney responded, unzipping John's pants and reaching inside. "We'd better do something about that, don't you think? God knows how long they're going to be in the restaurant."

"Don't worry," John breathed. "Ronon won't leave while there's still something edible left in the kitchen, _god_, do that again!" Rodney's hand was wrapped around his cock again, stroking softly and slowly, not nearly enough.

Rodney smiled and repeated the stroke, giving it a little twist on the end that made John's hips jerk up from the bed. "Like that?" he asked, and this was pure torture. John had to press his hand into his mouth to keep himself from screaming.

"You look good like this," Rodney said softly, still stroking slowly, using callused fingers to tease. "But then you know that, don't you? You know how to make people want you. Like that woman in the airport. She was ready to go down on her knees and blow you right there." Another twist, a little more vicious this time; John groaned. Rodney moved on the bed so that he was lying on his side, his mouth close to John's ear. "Would you like me to do that?" he whispered. "Do you want me to suck your cock? I give really good head, or so people have told me. Do you want that, John? Do you want to come in my mouth?" A little pause, like Rodney was considering it. "Or maybe I should just keep doing this." The strokes speeded up a little bit, pre-come making everything slick and hot.

John didn't really care what Rodney decided to do. He just wanted to get off, and this was not how it was supposed to be – it was Rodney who should be lying there, out of his mind with pleasure, and John the one who should be tormenting him. This was so not a part of the plan.

"I could fuck you if you want," Rodney said, and that was it, something had to happen _now_ or John would go crazy.

"Yes," he panted, barely able to get the word out, and flipped over so he was on his hands and knees, ass in the air. "Yes, fuck me."

He felt more than saw Rodney smile, and then there were fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling them down and off, and the rustle of fabric told him that Rodney was getting naked as well. John wasn't too happy about the lack of contact, but soon Rodney's hands were roaming over his back, caressing his sides.

"Come on, just do it," John mumbled into the pillow. He wished that Rodney would just _hurry up_ already because he was beginning to come apart here, and he would like to retain a little of his dignity.

The hands stilled, hesitating, and then there came an apologetic, "I can't, I… we don't have anything. Unless you…?" there was a hopeful note in Rodney's voice.

John swore. "Damn! I don't… wait, it doesn't matter, you could… we could… without…" Right now he didn't care if he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week, he wanted Rodney inside him, wanted that burn, that slow, deep glide.

Rodney rested his sweaty forehead against John's back. "No," he muttered. "I don't want to hurt you. Don't think I can hold back, you're so…"

"You won't hurt me," John pleaded. He wondered if it was possible to die from being too turned on, because right now he felt like his brain was going to explode.

Rodney ran a hand over his ass and John pressed into the touch, waiting for the intrusion, but it never came. Instead, Rodney's fingers moved to his hips "Let's do it like this instead," he said, and leaned forward so that his chest was pressed against John's back, his cock snug against John's ass, rubbing against his hole. It felt really really good and John wanted more, but Rodney held him firmly in place, just sliding between his cheeks. Then he reached around to wrap his hand around John's cock again, and okay, that worked too.

They were both getting sweaty, slick skin gliding against each other and Rodney's lips were on John's neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there. He'd have to wear a high-collared shirt tomorrow because there were going to be hickeys all over him.

Rodney's breath was coming faster, as did the movement of his hand on John's dick, and John just couldn't hold back any longer. He felt his orgasm begin deep in his balls, a rush of heat spreading through his entire body, and then he came hard all over Rodney's hand and the sheet. He almost fell over, but Rodney held him up, rocking against his ass until John felt a several spurts of warm and wet on his back and knew that Rodney had come too.

They collapsed to the side. John rolled over onto his back and thought that even if he never got to fly again in his life, it would be worth it if it meant he could have this.

"That was fun," Rodney said after a while.

"The first thing tomorrow, I'm buying lube," John slurred.

Rodney snorted. "Yes, I'm sure that will go over well with our esteemed colleagues. 'Sorry, I won't be able to make that meeting after all, I'd rather get fucked instead."

John made a sound that was definitely not a giggle. He was totally relaxed, a little giddy and feeling pretty good about the world. "I think that's a good excuse. Besides, we could always fuck after the meeting."

"You mean when I'm going to be busy making sure that Kolya's money end up in our bank account instead of Porter's? I admit, I'm good at multitasking, but that might be a bit of a stretch." Rodney slid out of reach, and John wanted to protest, but then he heard water running in the bathroom and a moment later Rodney was back with a damp washcloth which he used to gently clean up John.

John didn't feel like getting out of bed, so he dozed instead, enjoying the feeling of Rodney's warm hands on his body. He hadn't planned on falling asleep, but there hadn't exactly been much opportunity for rest in the past few days, and soon he was sleeping, dreaming about ivory carvings and a beach and citrus-free Mai Tai's.

He woke up alone.

* * *

Kolya wanted to meet on a golf course of all places. It suited John just fine. He had been working on perfecting his swing and it had been a while since he'd had the time to play for real.

Rodney was watching silently as John got himself ready for the meeting. He was trying to make sure the fake moustache was glued on straight. The coloured lenses were itchy and John hoped against all hopes that it wouldn't be an overly dry day. Then again, Vegas in June? Good luck with that.

Neither of them had mentioned the night before. Rodney was back to his usual abrasive self, and John didn't know how to bring it up. The whole situation had gotten away from him. John made his living reading people, and yet he had no idea how to interpret Rodney's actions. One moment he would have John completely at his mercy, panting and needy in bed, and the next it was as if nothing had ever happened; it was frustrating to say the least. John was used to being in control, but the past few days it was like he'd been flying by the seat of his pants.

How could Rodney McKay manage to make him feel like this anyway?

Teyla was already dressed, the business suit replaced with leisure clothes suitable for a day at the golf course. Rio Secco had a strict dress code and they had to be careful to fit in. John didn't worry too much about that. He wasn't even nervous about finally meeting Kolya face to face. This was his job and he was damn good at it. The thing that bugged him the most was that soon, this job would be over and they would all go their separate ways again. For some strange reason, John didn't want to. He couldn't imagine not spending this much time together with Rodney, not now that he had gotten used to always having the man around. Rodney grew on you like mould on bread. Sometimes John even caught himself trying to come up with other jobs that would require his help, just so that they wouldn't have to part just yet.

He really couldn't keep thinking about this now.

"You look like a gangster," Rodney said and John snapped out of his self-contemplation.

"That's sort of the point," he answered. Studying his own reflection in the mirror, he had to admit that he did look shady. The moustache was just a little bit too large to look good, and there was something deeply unsettling about the dark brown lenses. "I'm supposed to be selling stolen antiquities."

"And for that you need to look like you eat babies for breakfast?" John was about to protest, it wasn't _that_ bad, but Rodney just waved at him. "Never mind. Just… be careful, okay?"

John was struck by the sudden urge to tell Rodney… something. He wasn't sure what, but he knew it was important, if only he could find the right words. "Rodney, listen…" he began.

Rodney turned away. "Later," he said. "When you're done with Kolya and everything is finished and you've bought that lube… we can talk then." He stood up and left the room. John wanted to go after him, but had no idea what to say, so he remained standing like an idiot in front of the mirror.

"John Sheppard, you're a moron," he told his reflection. It had nothing to contribute.

Ronon drove them to Rio Secco, warm and uncomfortable in his driver's uniform. Teyla was her usual calm self while John was both nervous and excited, and kept watching the rear-view mirror to try to get used to his new appearance and get himself into the right headspace. He couldn't afford distractions right now, but he still couldn't get Rodney out of his thoughts.

Teyla went to meet up with Kolya and Radim while John waited in the car. He kept turning the little ivory carving over and over in his hand. It was beautiful, yellowed and smooth with age. It was almost a shame to hand it over to Kolya.

Suddenly, Ronon broke the silence. "How long have you two been fucking?" he asked bluntly.

John froze, not really prepared for the question. The words, "Not long," slipped out before he could stop himself.

Ronon grunted. "He doesn't seem like your type."

"Hey, it's nothing like that," John protested. "He just needed a little… incentive. That's all."

Truth to be told, John was pretty sure that _wasn't_ all, but there was no way he was telling Ronon that.

Ronon didn't look entirely convinced though. "It can get lonely sometimes, this life," he said quietly. "Can't blame a man for wanting some company."

And with that sentiment John figured that Ronon was possibly smarter than all of them put together. Sex for John had been all about getting a job done; a means to an end. With Rodney things were different. John might have started out with an agenda, but somewhere along the road that had changed. Rodney had gotten underneath his skin, crawled through the cracks in his carefully constructed façade, and John hadn't even noticed it happening.

"Huh," he said out loud, and then, to hide his own confusion, "Still not having any success with Teyla, I take it?"

Ronon didn't answer that, but there was a faint smile in the corner of his mouth that made John suspect that he wasn't fooled.

Teyla called just when John had decided that when they got back, he was going to have a long nice talk with Rodney. One that would preferably involve the lube he was going to buy as soon as he got the chance. Kolya had arrived and was waiting for him in the clubhouse.

It was a hot day, the sun burning from a clear blue sky. John was already getting sweaty and he wasn't really looking forward to a long walk around the course. The heat was oppressive and his golf-bag was heavy.

There was something about Acastus Kolya that set John's teeth on edge. The man reminded him of a snake, all cold eyes and ready to bite if John so much as moved wrong. John put on his best game-face, oily smile and firm handshake, and hoped that Koyla would buy it. This was a lot different than trying to gain the confidence of love-starved middle-aged women.

John introduced himself as Mr. John Holland, recently arrived from East Africa where he had acquired a large quantity of traditional ivory carvings such as the one he had brought to show Kolya. Miss Edwards had already demonstrated the falsified provenances, hadn't she? It was a very good deal, surely Mr Kolya could see that, but it had to be conducted quickly, because John already had other prospective buyers waiting.

They had a drink while Teyla was making pleasant conversation, and John was trying to read Kolya to see if he was buying the act. Radim was there, but he stayed in the background. John didn't try to talk to him, couldn't afford to let Kolya know that the two of them knew each other from before.

Kolya studied John's carving closely, and then looked at the photographs John had brought of the rest of the shipment. Fact was that the carvings in the pictures had been seized by the Tanzanian government as they were being smuggled out of the country, but Kolya didn't know that. The carving Evan had sent John was the perfect bait.

"This is a very interesting proposition," Kolya said and put the little piece of art down on the table. "Your price, however, seems a little over the top to me. I don't have twenty million available this fast. Seven is as far as I can go."

John shook his head. They had expected this and went with a higher sum than they hoped to get. "Seven is awfully low for so many pieces," he said. "You will be able to get twice as much for them. I can go down to fifteen but only because I need to make this deal quickly."

Kolya seemed to consider that, and for a short moment, John actually thought he was going to go for it, but then he said, "Ten. That's my last offer. If you can't accept that, I'm afraid you're going to have to find another buyer."

John carried out a whispered conversation with Teyla, trying to make it look like they were arguing about the price, and after a suitable amount of time, he turned back to Kolya. "We have a deal, Mr. Kolya," he said. "It's almost charity, but then again, if the shipment is seized by the authorities, I'll get nothing. Miss Edwards here will take care of all the details."

"Excellent," Kolya said, glancing at his watch. "My tee-time is up. I will transfer the money to my escrow agent immediately, and you will have them as soon as the shipment is in my possession." He held out a hand for John to shake. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Holland."

"Likewise," John answered with a smile. Beautiful! Everything had gone off without a hitch. Now all they had to do was to wait for the money to come into their account and then make contact with Kolya again a few days later and tell him that the shipment unfortunately had been seized and that they would have to cancel the deal. Porter, the escrow agent, would get blamed when Kolya didn't get his money back, and John and his team would be ten million dollars richer.

Kolya and Radim left the clubhouse for their golf round. John and Teyla did the same a little later – it seemed stupid not to play golf when they had paid for it. John wondered if Rodney played. If he didn't maybe he would like to learn. It was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon, even if it was a little too hot. They almost had ten million dollars and John loved the entire world.

"You sure took your time," Ronon grumbled when they got back to the car. "McKay called. He's got the money."

"Great!" John laughed and gave him a high five. "Lets get back to the hotel and celebrate! And I need to stop by a drugstore on the way."

They were in high spirits on their way back, laughing and joking, and after a brief stop, John had a tube in his pocket that promised very good things in his future. Removing the ugly fake moustache and the lenses, he was already making plans for how to play it. He wanted to take his time, find out everything he possibly could about Rodney's body.

By the time they arrived back at the Hilton, John already had Rodney naked on the bed in his mind. He whistled a little in the elevator and was well on his way to singing as they walked the hallway towards their suite.

That was when everything took a turn for the worse.

Teyla had her key card out and was just about to unlock the door when it glided open, seemingly on its own accord. John went cold.

"That's not good," Ronon said.

They carefully stepped inside. The suite was a mess. The furniture had been tossed around and a lot of Rodney's equipment was smashed up. There was spilled coffee and a broken mug on the floor. Of Rodney, there was no sign. John, Teyla and Ronon looked at each other and then started to investigate, looking for clues as to what could have happened.

"Could he have taken the money for himself?" Teyla wondered out loud. John didn't answer, but secretly he was harbouring the same fear. It was a possibility, even if he didn't want to think about it. That would certainly explain Rodney's weird behaviour. _He_ could have been conning _them_ all along.

Ronon said, "I've got blood," and slid a finger through a dark spot of something on the conference table. It came away red and something inside John tore into jagged little pieces.

"There is more over here," Teyla said, kneeling in front of one of the couches. She picked something up from the floor. "Look."

It was Rodney's glasses. One of the earpieces was bent out of shape and one lens was cracked. John reached out a trembling hand and took them from Teyla. There were traces of blood on the glasses as well. He folded them up carefully and put them in his shirt pocket.

Then the telephone rang. The three of them froze, just watching it. One ring, two, three, until John couldn't stand it anymore and snatched up the receiver.

"Mr Holland, I am very disappointed in you," came the voice on the other end of the line. Kolya. "Or should I perhaps say Mr. Sheppard? For your information, Mr McKay is currently a guest of the Genii Casino. I'm sorry to say that he required very little convincing to cooperate. I would come here if I were you. Otherwise, things could get… unpleasant."

John knew this feeling. He'd had it before when he was still in the military. The world slowed down around him, all emotion bled away, until the only thing left was burning rage and calm determination.

"I'm going to kill you," he said, voice cool and steady.

Kolya chuckled. "You are welcome to try," he answered. "You have ten minutes to get here; you and Miss Emmagan and Mr. Dex. Don't do anything rash, or McKay will pay the price."

* * *

A group of heavily armed men were waiting in the lobby of the Genii Casino when they arrived. They motioned John, Teyla and Ronon to one side, into a small room away from the main casino area. The grunts were big and silent and didn't seem to have much of a sense of humour. They quickly found John's Beretta and the small .22 calibre gun Teyla had hidden in her boot. A more thorough search also revealed the knife Ronon had stuck into his hair.

One of the goons muttered something into his radio and a moment later, a pretty blond woman in a black suit showed up.

"Come with me please," she said curtly. "Mr. Kolya is waiting in his office."

"What about McKay?" Ronon growled. He had two goons holding him in place and both of them looked nervous.

"Mr. McKay will be there as well," the woman said as she walked over to a door in the far end of the room and entered a code into the keypad on the wall. The door opened to an elevator.

"If he has been hurt…" Teyla started, but the blond woman interrupted.

"My orders are to bring you to Mr. Kolya. Everything else will have to wait until you see him." She motioned to the guards to lead John and the others into the elevator. John didn't say a word; he was waiting for an opening. But first he had to see Rodney with his own eyes to make sure he was okay. He didn't like what Kolya had said about cooperation.

The elevator ride was smooth and quick, and when the door slid open again, they were brought out into a hallway with dark wood panelling on the walls and a plush red carpet on the floor. The blond woman led them up to a door and knocked on it. "Mr. Kolya, your guests are here."

There was a moment and then the door opened. The man inside was not Kolya, but Ladon Radim. At the sight of him, Ronon let out a furious roar and broke loose from the grip of the two gorillas holding him. John tensed, ready to make a break for freedom himself if Ronon succeeded, but the blond woman was quicker. She delivered a hard blow to the back of Ronon's head, sending him face-first into a wall. He sank to the floor, blood gushing from his nose. Probably broken, John thought, and sent Teyla a glance. She shook her head. It was better to wait and see what would happen.

"Mr. Sheppard, Miss Emmagan," Radim said, and then with a look to Ronon's crumpled form on the floor, "and Mr. Dex. Please come in. You're expected."

John wished he could kill with a look – if that were the case, Radim would have been dead already. Everything else lost meaning though, when Radim stepped aside, and John caught sight of Rodney.

He was kneeling in front of Kolya's desk. Another goon was holding him upright, had it not been for that, he would probably have been on the floor. Rodney's face had a horrible grey colour and as John was pushed into the room he saw the knife in the goon's hand, and a bloodstain spreading on Rodney's shirtsleeve.

Kolya was sitting behind the desk, watching Rodney with a look of grim satisfaction. At the sight of John, however, he stood up and walked around the desk. "Mr. Sheppard," he said, false joviality all over his face. "How nice of you to join us."

"What did you do to him?" John hissed. If only the goon holding him would loosen the grip for a fraction of a second, he was sure he could get his hands around Kolya's throat before anyone had time to react.

Kolya raised an eyebrow. "Mr. McKay? Oh, just a little discussion between friends. It's amazing what you can find out with the help of a sharp blade."

Behind him, Rodney had roused a little and met John's gaze with pain-filled blue eyes. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I didn't want to tell, I swear. I didn't want to, didn't mean to…"

"Don't worry, Rodney, it's okay," John managed. "You're gonna be fine, just don't worry, we're gonna get you out of here." He was aware of the fact that he was babbling, and he wasn't sure how much Rodney could hear anyway, but he couldn't help himself, couldn't bear the thought that Rodney was blaming _himself_, when he should be blaming John for getting him into this mess.

"What are you going to do with us?" Teyla asked calmly. Wonderful Teyla, always keeping cool in a crisis. John had lost his cool the moment he entered the room and saw what Kolya had done to Rodney.

The goons behind them had gotten a groggy Ronon to his feet, pushed him over the threshold and closed the door. John was willing to bet that they had several guns trained on them. Still, if he got the slightest chance he knew he was going to beat them all to death.

"I must admit, I'm almost impressed," Kolya said, walking up so he was face-to-face with John. "You have some guts, the lot of you – I'm almost tempted to let you live. Unfortunately, I can't allow the world to believe that it's possible to fool Acustus Kolya and get away with it. I'm going to have to make an example out of you. I will give you this, though. Your deaths will be quick and easy."

"Yours won't be," Ronon muttered, voice thick with blood.

Kolya smiled. "I see you still have some fight left in you. Under different circumstances, I would give you the chance to go out with a bang, but I'm a busy man. Mr. Radim? Would you get rid of them, please?"

Radim reached into his suit, obviously going for a gun. John wanted to kill him too, smash his face into pieces. "You sold us out, you bastard," he said. Kolya's head snapped around, his cold eyes fixed on Radim.

"I wish you hadn't said that," Radim said, drew his gun and fired. The shot echoed in the room. John closed his eyes, afraid to look, to find out which one of his friends had just died. He wasn't prepared for the sight that met him when he opened them again.

Kolya was lying on the floor, motionless, a dark red pool of blood around his head.

Radim kept the gun out, obviously feeling like he needed the protection. To judge from the expression on Ronon's blood-streaked, bruised face, he wasn't entirely wrong. "You can let them go now," Radim told the goons. "Get out of here."

The man holding Rodney released his grip and he dropped like a rag doll. John was torn between going to him and pounding the asshole with the knife into a bloody pulp. However, when Rodney crawled away into a corner and quietly began to vomit, it wasn't much of a choice.

Rodney flinched away when John put a hand on his back. He was retching violently and the bleeding on his arm wasn't slowing down. John was worried about shock; Rodney had obviously lost a lot of blood and didn't seem to be all there. He knelt by Rodney's side, reaching out again, speaking slowly, as if trying to calm a terrified animal, "It's okay, Rodney, it's just me, it's John. You're safe now, I won't let them hurt you anymore."

John was distantly aware of Teyla, Ronon and Radim watching, but right now he didn't care. He kept talking to Rodney, and after a few impossibly long minutes, it seemed like he finally got through, because Rodney's hands suddenly reached out and grabbed his shirt and held on like he was afraid John was going to disappear. His whole body was shaking convulsively and yeah, definitely in shock. He pressed his clammy face into John's collarbone, mumbling a barely audible string of, "Imsorryimsorrypleasenomoreimsosorry," and John had no idea what to do, other than hold him tight and stroke his back to try to ease the trembling.

The cut on Rodney's arm was deep and would need stitches, and even then, Rodney would probably carry the scar for the rest of his life. There was also a gash just below his hairline, dark with dried blood, and bruises around his wrists and neck. He must have put up a hell of a fight John thought with a spark of pride.

He turned to Radim. "You planned this," he said, making his voice low and deadly. If only Rodney hadn't needed him, if only Radim hadn't been the one with the gun…

Radim smiled, a smile completely devoid of any kind of emotion. "Of course. Why should I settle for a measly million when I could have all this?" He motioned to the room, seeming to indicate the entire casino. "I saw a chance and I took it. Not so different from you, Mr. Sheppard." He turned to the blond woman. "Sora, will you please provide the lady and the gentlemen with proper transportation? And a doctor for Mr. McKay and Mr. Dex, I think." She nodded and left.

John held Rodney's shaking body closer, pressing his hand against the wound to try to stop the bleeding. Rodney moaned into his shoulder, but didn't show any other signs of awareness.

"Now, this is what's going to happen," Radim said, turning to Teyla, obviously realising that she was the only one he was going to get any sense out of at the moment. "Mr. Kolya here," he nodded towards the body on the floor, "Is going to have an accident, a mugging, to be precise. Terrible thing of course, there are too many junkies on the street. The police ought to do something." A faint smile touched Radim's lips. John wanted to punch him but he had his arms full of Rodney. "The investigation is going to close due to lack of evidence, and the Genii Corporation will be mine. At the end of the day, everything will work out just fine. As far as your team are concerned, I would recommend that you leave the city, preferably even the country. You're all smart people and I'm sure you will be able to make a living anywhere."

"May I ask how long you have been planning this?" Teyla asked coolly.

Radim sat down in Kolya's chair and leaned back. "Oh, for some time now. You merely provided me with the perfect opportunity. For that I am grateful. But I have to warn you – it would be very unwise to cross my path again. I have no interest in killing any of you, but I will not hesitate if you turn out to pose a threat to my operation."

"Are we supposed to believe that?" Ronon asked, prodding his broken nose. "You didn't seem to have a problem letting Kolya hurt him," he motioned to Rodney. "Give us one reason why you won't shoot us in the back the moment we're out of the room."

Radim let out a humourless laugh. "As opposed to the late Mr. Kolya here, I don't like to gloat. Believe me, Mr. Dex. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead already. Now, do we have an agreement or not?"

"Yes, we do," Teyla said, and then, when both John and Ronon started to protest, "We are alive. I would very much like to stay that way. We can start over somewhere else."

John had to admit she was right. He didn't like it one bit, but it didn't seem like they had much of a choice at the moment. One of the things he had learned in this trade was when it was time to just cut your losses and get out while you could.

* * *

Whatever the doctor gave Rodney before stitching up his arm put him out like a light. It was probably for the best, John thought. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Rodney had been through tonight – taken from the suite by force, tortured and questioned, not even certain if anyone would come from him. John remembered the death grip Rodney's hand had on his shirt. He still smelled like sour sweat and terror and John wanted to kick himself hard because he had promised Rodney that _nothing would happen to them_, and then he had screwed everything up so far beyond recognition that it wasn't even funny.

Sora had arranged for a limousine, which took them to a motel near the McCarran International Airport. Rodney slept with his head in John's lap and only stirred when they arrived to the motel. He allowed himself to be half-carried inside, arms around John's neck.

By unspoken agreement, they got one double room. None of them felt like splitting up tonight. John deposited Rodney on one of the beds and got him out of the bloodstained clothes, wincing in sympathy as he found more bruises. Rodney was barely awake, eyes dull in his pale face. Once he was down to t-shirt and boxers, John pulled the cover up over him and started to move away. He was in half a mind to investigate the mini-bar and see if he could find something in there that would make it easier to deal with everything.

Rodney stopped him, fingers snaking out from under the cover and twisting in the hem of John's shirt. "Stay?" he whispered raggedly. He didn't seem to have much of a voice left and once again, the rage welled up inside of John. In his mind, he could imagine Rodney's screams as Kolya's goon stuck the knife in his arm. He wanted to go back to the casino, find that particular man and kill him slowly.

"John?" Rodney's hoarse voice brought him back to the here and now. He knelt beside the bed.

"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry."

"Will you stay? Please?" Rodney's eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "Just… just for now. I know you'll be gone tomorrow and I'll never see you again, but… just… will you let me pretend for now? I won't bother you again, I promise, but… can I just pretend you care, just for tonight. Please?"

"Oh, Rodney." John was not far from crying himself. How could Rodney believe… they had come for him, hadn't they? He wondered what Rodney's life had been like before, but decided he didn't really want to know. Maybe it hadn't been so different from his own – Ronon was right, it was a lot lonely sometimes. When everything you did, everything you were was one big con, it was so hard to make real connections with people. It was a sort of twisted self-defence. If you never let anyone get close to you, it meant you wouldn't get hurt, wouldn't get hustled, wouldn't have your feelings played with like you played those of others. "I do care," he said. "I care, Rodney. That was… that was what I wanted to talk to you about before. I'm just sorry I didn't say it sooner."

Rodney smiled faintly. "Thanks," he whispered, closing his eyes. "It means a lot to me. Even if you'll be gone tomorrow."

"Rodney…"

But Rodney was already asleep, his breathing deep and even. John leaned forward and rested his head on Rodney's chest. He was tired, more so than he could ever remember being. The two of them were alone in the room. Ronon was in the bathroom cleaning up, and Teyla had gone out to arrange for plane tickets.

John climbed into the bed, put his arms around Rodney's chest and his face against Rodney's hair. It was sort of nice, even if he had to keep tearing his eyes away from the white bandage around Rodney's arm. He could easily stay like this, he thought. Could easily get lost in the rhythmic pounding of Rodney's heart under his palm. John relaxed and drifted.

Ronon came out of the bathroom a little later, in a clean shirt. His entire face was swollen and he looked like a boxer who had gone one round too many. He raised an eyebrow at the two of them in bed, but didn't say anything about it. "I'm going to get some dinner and some ice," he said instead, in a low voice not to wake Rodney. "You want anything?"

John wasn't hungry. He felt nauseous and shaky, adrenaline draining out of his body to leave only exhaustion and regret. "No thanks," he said. "I think I'm just gonna stay here for a while."

Ronon nodded in understanding and left. John knew he should stay awake and alert. Who knew what could happen. Radim might go against his promises and have them killed, despite what he had said earlier. But John was just so tired, so utterly drained of energy. Rodney was sleeping deeply, snoring a little. John closed his eyes. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. This time, he didn't dream.

John woke up once in the night, from the sound of Teyla's quiet sobs and Ronon's low soothing voice. He wondered if he should get up and try to comfort her, but Rodney was heavy and limp in his arms, and he decided that Ronon was probably more suited for that task anyway. He went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, it was to the smell of coffee and rustling of paper bags. John cracked his eyes open and saw sunlight streaming in through the window. Teyla and Ronon were sitting closely together on the other bed. Ronon was digging in a greasy bag and Teyla was drinking something from a styrofoam cup.

"Good morning," she said. "Are you hungry? We bought breakfast."

John tried to move and found he couldn't. Rodney was lying on top of him, curled around him like a cuddly tentacle monster. "Rodney?" he said, blowing on Rodney's face. That usually worked when you wanted to wake someone. "Hey, buddy, it's time to wake up."

Rodney turned his head, groaned something and promptly went back to sleep. John smiled a little, freed a hand and reached it out. "Gimme the coffee," he said. Teyla got up and handed him a cup, and John waved it under Rodney's nose.

Rodney's eyelids fluttered and blinked open. "I had the most disturbing dream," he mumbled into John's shirt. "There were aliens and people in black suits and I think Tommy Lee Jones was wearing shorts, which is enough to scar anyone for life and… wait…" he pulled away and pushed himself mostly upright, confused eyes roaming around the room. "What are you still doing here?"

"Just waiting for you to wake up," Ronon said, pulling a bagel from his bag. "Flight leaves in a couple of hours."

"Flight?" Rodney shifted and made a grimace. "Ow. Seriously, ow. What do you mean, flight? And give me that coffee now or I won't be held responsible for the consequences."

John pressed the coffee cup into Rodney's hand. "Careful, it's hot," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Rodney said, removing the lid and taking a sip. "Also, severely traumatized and did I mention sore? By the way, you didn't answer my question. Why are you still here and what flight?"

"That's two questions," John said with a laugh, looking over to Ronon and his paper bag, wondering if there might be more bagels. He felt like things had improved with morning and sunlight, although Rodney was still a little pale, and his bruises had darkened into painful purple. The sleep seemed to have helped though. It looked like Rodney was back to his usual charming self.

"So start with the first one," Rodney said. "It's not that I'm not grateful for… well… yesterday." He trailed off, seemingly looking for words, and then continued, looking straight at John. "I mean it. It was very kind of you. But as you might have figured out, I'm not big on pain, and I think I would've preferred it if you'd just been gone when I woke up."

Ronon and Teyla looked at each other and seemed to be getting up to leave. John held up his hand to stop them. "No, wait guys, it's okay." He turned to Rodney. "I meant every word I said yesterday. I know I fucked everything up, and I'm sorry. I promised you'd be safe and… anyway. I want to make it up to you if you'd let me."

Rodney's eyes turned wide. He was staring at John as if he couldn't believe what he heard. "You meant it?" he said finally. "But I thought… You _weren't_ trying to con me?"

"Well, maybe in the beginning," John admitted. "But then it sort of turned real and you were acting… like _you_ didn't care, and I thought you were trying to…"

Rodney groaned and put his head in his hand. "Yes, of course. Because I couldn't figure out what someone like you could possibly see in someone like me and… we are a pair of very disturbed people, do you know that?"

"Amen," Ronon muttered, looking at his watch. "Are you going to eat your breakfast or what? Flight's leaving in three hours."

John glared at him, and Teyla elbowed him in the ribs. Rodney, however, carefully put his coffee mug down, grabbed John, and proceeded to kiss him silly. "All right," he said when he'd finished and John was panting for breath, red and warm in the face. "Yes, this could work. You'd have to stop the whole flirting-with-women thing though. And, for the last time, _what flight_?" He reached out to retrieve his coffee.

"Four tickets to Paris," Teyla said, waving an envelope. "I also have passports and working visas, everything in false names of course."

"Paris?" Rodney muttered around a mouthful of coffee.

"I hear it is lovely this time of the year," Teyla said with a glance to Ronon, who was apparently trying to cram an entire bagel into his mouth at once.

"The city of lovers," John agreed. "And if we're lucky we might find some sucker who'd be interested in buying the Eiffel tower."

"Hm…" Rodney seemed to be considering this. "I have to admit, that doesn't sound completely awful. Although, the Eiffel tower thing? Already done."

"Doesn't mean it can't be done again," John said. Rodney got something calculating in his eyes and John couldn't resist the temptation to kiss him again. He felt like he'd just thrown himself into free-fall, with no safety net at all, and it was frightening and exciting all at once. He didn't know what the future had in store, but as Rodney returned the kiss, he found that it didn't really matter, as long as Rodney was going to be in it.

\- fin -


End file.
